Bonfires, Tequila and Cameras
by 7DeadlySinsContest
Summary: Contest Entry. One weekend of carefree fun leads Sookie to a night of passion, then she gets the shock of her life three weeks later. AH


**Eric & Sookie 7 Deadly Sins Contest**

**Title: **Bonfires, Tequila, and Cameras

**Characters: **Sookie, Eric, Amelia, and Niall

**Disclaimer: **I do not own SVM or the characters.

* * *

I saw him for the first time on the beach. I had traveled down to the Gulf for a weekend with my friends, taking some time off from college, just to raise some hell. We had all pitched in and rented out one of those bungalow deals on the beach. Summer was nearly upon us, and the temperature reflected that. We spent all day on the beach, not really swimming, but tanning and flirting with all the hot guys that came over, drawn by four women in skimpy ass bikinis.

Later that night we had wandered down to a neighboring bungalow and the bonfire that lit up the beach. Yeah it was illegal, but fuck it, it was fun. I so did not have enough fun in my life. I threw caution to the wind, an act that my best friend Amelia took great delight in. She also took great delight in pouring the tequila shots down me. I think I was on my sixth shot when I saw him.

The flickering flames of the bonfire set the scene. I was bleary eyed, and so sure I had imagined him, when he stepped out of the shadows and into the orange glow of the fire. His hair was long and blond. The wind blew it in his face, and I gaped when I saw how large his hands were when he lifted one to rake the stray locks out of his oh so blue eyes. He had nice full lips and his cheeks and chin were scruffy, like he'd forgotten to shave. It was a very Nordic face and oh so yummy. His shoulders were broad, tapering down to a lean but chiseled chest and stomach, which I got to ogle because he didn't wear a shirt. He wore cut off jeans and no shoes, which I thought was rather brave considering how much glass there could be in the sand.

I'm pretty sure I drooled as I watched him bend down to snag a cold beer out of one of the numerous coolers. I didn't care if anyone saw me drooling. I flushed ever so slightly when I saw him turn to stare at me. Right around that time Amelia came stumbling over and shoved another shot in my hand. I tossed it back recklessly and grabbed her hand to drag her on to the dance floor. We put on quite the show, bumping and grinding against each other, our hands stroking each others bodies with no inhibitions.

Amelia finally got pulled away by some guy, and I stumbled back over to the fire. I was about to drop onto a piece of driftwood when I felt someone staring at me. Slowly I turned and met the blue eyes of my Viking God. I smiled coyly, just the slightest up tilt of my lips. Then, feeling empowered by the amount of tequila I had digested, I gave him what I hoped was a sexy come hither look and started off towards my bungalow. My friends were occupied and wouldn't be back for hours.

I knew I was looking pretty hot. I was wearing my favorite red bikini that left nothing to the imagination. It was little more than four tiny pieces of fabric held together by strings. The sheer sarong I had tied around my waist blew against my legs in the wind.

I didn't walk slow, and I could feel his gaze burning into my back. He was following me. I made my way down the beach and up the raised stairs to the bungalow. Heavy footsteps followed me. I walked across the wrap around porch until I came to the screen door to my room. I pushed it open, hearing the squeak of the hinges. I was standing with my back to the door when I heard the hinges squeak again. That's when I turned around.

His hands were on me before I could take a breath, and his body pushed against mine, moving me until my back hit the opposite wall with a thud. Thrill shot through me. I raised my hands, to push him away, to pull him back, I wasn't sure which. But I never got the chance to touch him because his hands caught mine and pinned them above my head. His lips were on mine and every thought I had flew out my mind.

They were warm, moist, and tasted like the beer he had drank. It was a heady combination that made my head spin. Firm and demanding, his lips moved over mine, coaxing them to part. When they did on a soft moan, his tongue slid into my mouth. My body began to tremble as his tongue plundered my mouth. There was no hesitant tasting, no soft touches that asked for permission. He just took. I loved it.

I wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch me. I arched my body into his, pressed my breasts against his bare chest. His grip on my wrists shifted so that only one hand was holding my arms up. With his now free hand, he reached between us and hooked his fingers into the front of my bikini top and jerked down. The sound of the string snapping had my breath catching in my throat. Then he pulled back just enough to sweep the fabric to the side, his palms grazing my nipples, which went hard instantly. His fingers found them and plucked and teased until I was bucking against him.

His lips moved from mine, burned their way down my neck in rough kisses. He bent his head as his hand pushed one of my breasts up. His mouth closed around my nipple, hot and moist. His tongue lapped, and then his teeth closed around the nipple and he pulled back. Oh god! It was the best feeling ever, and I moaned to encourage him to do it again. He did, again and again, until he switched his attention to the other breast, repeating the action.

By this time I was soaking wet and rubbing my thighs together to attempt to relieve some of the hot tension growing between my legs. I needed him to touch me there, needed to feel his fingers slide into me. I raised one leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling him tight against me so I could buck my hips and rub myself over the hard length that pressed against his cut offs. He felt so big, so hard that it made me whimper.

He said nothing but kept licking and sucking on my nipple. His hand moved between us, heading south. I nearly screamed when two fingers slid under the bottom of my bikini and touched my hot center. I was so wet that his fingers parted my folds easily, stroking and teasing. Fuck! I was going to come, and he hadn't done anything but move his fingers up and down.

I gasped and begged for more and got my wish. I had sucked in a breath and it whooshed out of me in a long moan as one finger slid inside me as his other finger flicked over my clit. I exploded, inner walls clamping down hard around his fingers. He made a growling noise against my breasts as I shook from the sudden orgasm, flooding his hand with my juices. The warmth that spread through my body was like a wildfire, un-containable, out of control.

"Fuck me," I said harshly.

His blue eyes flicked up to me, and I bucked against his hand, driving his finger deeper within me. He didn't say anything else, just removed his fingers. His lips crushed mine, and I heard the sound of a zipper being lowered. Then I felt cool air against my pussy as he ripped away my bikini bottom. My hands were free and went to his shoulders as both of his large hands gripped my waist and lifted me up like I weighed no more than a feather. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and his hands shifted to cradle my ass.

I felt the tip of his cock slide through my folds as he lowered me ever so slightly, positioning himself at my entrance. I slid my hands up into his hair, tangling my fingers in those long blonde locks and pulling his head up so I was staring into his eyes. They were so intense, so light, that I was losing myself in them. Then he thrust his hips against me just slightly, bringing me back to the here and now. His cock slid against my folds, and I moaned. He shifted again, and I could feel the head of his cock pushing against me.

I nodded and tried to push myself down on to him but he held me still. I had a moment to marvel at the strength he possessed to hold me pinned against the wall like he did. Then he was thrusting forward, filling me, stretching me. He was so impossibly large that I screamed and writhed against him. He pulled back, giving me no time to adjust to his size, and pushed in me again. Over and over he forced his cock into my pussy, and all I could do was hold on and let the sensation of him dragging against my tight walls drive me to orgasm.

It was hard, and it was sudden. It ripped through me, a tidal wave of pleasure that brought tears to my eyes. It was an earth shattering orgasm, and I clung to him, unable to do anything but moan and arch against him. He didn't stop, even when my inner walls clamped painfully around his cock. Instead he fought against the pressure, shoving in and out.

"Harder," I demanded in a pant and bit his shoulder.

He grunted and slammed into me, the force making my back bounce against the wall. I barely felt the shock of pain as his hand pushed between us, his fingers finding my clit. He pinched and stroked the small bundle of nerves as he thrust his hips forward. I was coming again before I knew it. This time he pulled us away from the wall as the orgasm shook my body.

I squeaked and protested when he lifted me off his cock. I felt empty and reached between us to wrap my fingers around his length. It was wet from my juices, and I stroked up and down, squeezing and releasing. He made a sound between a moan and a groan and knocked my hand away. I glared at him and he dumped me on the bed.

I bounced once and he was there, flipping my body over and dragging me to my hands and knees. I lowered my upper body, shoving my ass into the air, spreading my legs slightly so I was completely exposed to him. A small part of me was shocked by my brazen display and the uninhibited sex I was engaging in.

His fingers shoved into me roughly, dragging a moan from my throat. Then they were gone and he was moving behind me. I felt his cock press into the curve of my ass and I thought surely he wouldn't fuck me in the ass, not without any preparation. Then I felt his cock move down and he shoved into me from behind.

I cried out at the deep penetration and pushed back against him. His hands caught my hips in a bruising grip, holding me still as he pulled out and thrust back in. Oh God, with each stroke I felt a fire build and build in me. He twisted his hips on the next thrust and his cock brushed over my g-spot, and I lost it. Hands digging into the sheets below me, I shoved back with all my strength as I came again.

The air was full of my screams and moans and demands for him to fuck me harder. I wanted more, needed more. One hand slid up my side and around to capture my breast and he squeezed it as he fucked me harder. I felt the orgasm building again and began to moan to tell him I was closer. I felt the surge of his hips as he shoved deep inside me. I came with another scream, and I felt him roar above me. There was a spurt of warmth within me, and I felt the pulse of his cock and knew that he had come as well. I tightened my walls around him, milking him. He held me tight against him, my ass pressing into his tight abs as he shuddered over me.

I was limp from the pleasure that had ravaged my body. I hadn't done any work at all; all I had done was let him fuck me, and I was tired as if I had just run a twenty mile marathon. I had enough strength to protest when he pulled out, voice hoarse from all the screaming. Then I felt my body being turned, felt the warm line of his body curve into my back as he spooned me from behind. There was a small smile on my lips as I passed out, his fingers absently stroking my breasts.

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone and a sheet covered my body. My body ached and was stiff all over when I turned. A crinkling noise filled my ear and I cursed, reaching up to grab the piece of paper I had just rolled over on. I blinked against the harsh light of the sun, which felt like knives stabbing my eyes. Fucking hangover.

It took awhile before I could focus enough to read the neat block letters. It was a note from my mystery man.

_Angel, forgive me for leaving without waking you, but I didn't have the heart. If you ever want to do it again, here is my number. Call me. Eric Northman._

That was when it hit me, I had just had sex with a perfect stranger. With no protection. I was pretty confident in my birth control, but birth control did not protect against STDs. Then I caught something in smaller writing and laughed despite myself. He had added a post script saying that he was clean and had every confidence that I was as well. No problem there. Last night was the first night I had sex in over six months.

Fuck, it was fantastic sex too. So wild and free. So not me. Sookie Stackhouse did not go to beach parties and hook up with someone and let them fuck her deaf, blind, and dumb and not even know their name. Only, I did. I had a fucktastic one night stand. Though, given that I now had Mr. Eric Northman's number, it might not stay a one night stand. Or it might, considering we were going back to LSU later today. Oh well, I thought as I snuggled into my blankets with a smug smile, I had the best sex of my life, and I wasn't going to let something like distance distract me.

Three weeks later I was bored to death in my photography class. The professor was going on and on about a new project which would count as our final. He was going to assign us each a partner, a model from an agency he hired, and we were to put together a collage of shots based on a theme that he would be assigning shortly. We got our themes first. I stared at the slip Professor Brigant handed me and smirked. The seven deadly sins. Then we were called to the front, given a number that represented the model we had to work with. Then we were directed into the small office attached to the lecture room, where the models waited.

I stepped through and called out number seven. Shock was like ice water as I stared into the blue eyes that I found so intense when the man attached to them was fucking me. Eric Northman. Fate, apparently, was an amusing bitch. The smirk on his face called to mind the way he looked when he was thrusting deep inside me, and I licked my lips.

The next few weeks were going to be fun. Already my mind was racing and setting up shots to depict each sin. Somehow, I didn't think that Mr. Northman with his cocky grin and knowing look was going to mind getting naked for a couple of them. I didn't think I'd mind either, though I'd have better luck shooting myself in the sins of greed and gluttony, because lord knows I wanted more.

Eric followed me as I led the way out of the office, passing by my fellow students and their assigned models. The silence grew between us as we walked off campus and to a little coffee shop on the corner across from the university. We ordered our drinks and settled in at one of the little tables on the sidewalk. I pulled out a notebook and held a pen poised, ready to take notes, even though my mind was not on the assignment.

"I didn't think I'd see you again," I started, more than willing to acknowledge our one night stand. The truth was, since that night I had felt liberated. Something about the way we had coupled, come together, had changed me. I wasn't so timid anymore, though I had not repeated my actions. But I was more willing to flirt and tease.

"You didn't call," Eric said in response, a small smirk teasing his lips.

I gave a little shrug. "I left. I didn't know if you lived on the coast or if you were like me, taking a vacation. I honestly never thought I would see you again."

"Yet, here we are."

"Amazing coincidence."

"If you say so."

The blasé way he said that made my eyes narrow in suspicion. "It is a coincidence, isn't it? I mean, you didn't stalk me or anything right?"

His blue eyes twinkled in amusement. "No, I didn't stalk you, but I don't believe in coincidences. Something greater brought us together again."

I frowned because now he was starting to sound a little out there, not exactly grounded to reality if you know what I mean. I tried to look stern, but it was very hard when he licked his lower lip, making me remember how he tasted. "We aren't exactly together. We are working together for a school assignment."

An eyebrow arched at that. "Don't you just sound prim and proper?"

There was a lilt to his voice that turned the simple comment into something more, something dirty. Like he wanted to shred the prim and proper away from me. Trouble was, as I stared into those eyes, I wasn't sure if I could stop him. My body was screaming at me to drag him back to my apartment and let him dominate me again.

"I prefer to think of it as professional," I replied coolly, even as the fire heated my veins. It should be illegal for someone to look that damn good in a pair of jeans and button down shirt.

"Oh by all means," there was that smirk again, "let's be professional."

Maybe I should request another model. This was an important assignment and clearly Eric was incapable of separating what happened between us on the beach and how we were supposed to act now. This was not some hook up, it was an assignment. I knew I could be professional, or at least I hoped I could, but could Eric? Was I going to be wasting my time with him?

I exhaled slowly and decided to lay it out on the table. "Listen, Eric, I know that we had a fantastic fuck that weekend, or at least I did. You are very skilled, and I don't think I'll ever forget that. However, I would like to keep this professional. I'm very serious about my studies, especially in my choice career. This assignment means a lot to me, not only because of the grade, but because of the challenge. So I would appreciate it if you could behave professionally." I gazed at him and he nodded so I finished with, "If you can't, then fine. I'll go request another model." Then I smiled impishly at him, "And if you wanted to take me to dinner and come back to my place afterward, well there would be no conflict of interest."

Eric leaned back in his chair, lifting his cup to his lips to sip the coffee as he studied me. I resisted the urge to fidget under the intensity of his stare. I wanted to twitch or squirm, but I didn't. I had meant every word I said so it was up to him to accept or not.

Eric finally nodded his head. "Very well. For the next two weeks, we'll keep things professional. But after..."

"After, all bets are off," I agreed and nearly jumped up and down. Not only would I have the most perfect specimen of mankind as my model, the chances of him taking me to bed just rose. Oh yeah, I was selfish. Greedy even. I wanted him all to myself. I wanted more of what I had gotten three weeks ago. I could only imagine what the sex would be like if we were sober. Hmm, greed and gluttony. I was really getting into my theme.

"Then we have an agreement," he said, now sounding very professional, the teasing gone from his voice. "Where do we begin."

"Well, I have some ideas," I started and outlined the vague plan I had involving the shoot. He offered suggestions which I took into account. I had to admit, they were good suggestions, and by the time we parted company and made plans to meet in three days, I was feeling very confident.

Three days later, I showed up at the studio on campus two hours before our scheduled meeting time. I had a lot to set up, and it took almost the full two hours. I was still checking light readings and getting one of my cameras set up on the tripod. Eric walked in wearing casual khakis and a button down top, the top two buttons undone. I just stared at him and drooled. The man could even make the most casual of outfits sexy. Life wasn't fair.

He did a slow turn in the center of the studio, taking in the various set ups I had done. I noticed that his gaze lingered on the bed and the blood red silk sheets the longest. I had a teasing smile for him when he finally looked over at me.

"You've been busy."

"Oh you have no idea," I drawled and reached over to tug the sheet that hid the final set up down.

Eric took in the vintage typewriter and cedar roll top desk that was set up and the books that lined the shelves. There was a stack of paper, the top being a title page to a novel in progress. I fidgeted under his gaze when he turned back to me.

Suddenly embarrassed, I rushed to explain. "I uh, did some research and found out that you want to be a novelist. I figured it could go for the whole pride deal. You know, you take pride in your work and such." I swallowed hard when he said nothing and said quickly, "If you don't like it, if it's too personal for you, then I can change it."

"No," he said softly, looking back at the desk, "I like it. The fact you went so far as to include something that is personal says a lot about you as a photographer. It's good. So, what's first?"

I was a little shocked and more than pleased by his acceptance of my choice for pride that it took a bit to understand his question. As he stared at me, I mentally scolded myself and gestured. "Pride goeth before the fall."

He laughed, and it was deep and warm. A genuine laugh. I liked it a lot. He sat down in the rolling desk chair and looked at me. "So what do I do?"

"Just sit there, act like you are typing, maybe pick up the stack of papers and thumb through them, like you are looking for a reference, that sort of thing. I want these to be candid and then we'll do a posed one, with a book I created." At his questioning look, I smirked. "I took a hardcover book and photoshopped a book jacket for it, with your name and picture. You can hold it like it's a real published book."

"Nifty."

I almost snorted at that. Who would have thought that the sexy beach hunk/struggling novelist that was a bullet in the sack would use a word like nifty. Eric settled in, and I grabbed my camera and waved a hand for him to get started. I was pleasantly surprised when he actually fed a piece of blank paper into the typewriter and started typing. So surprised that I just watched as he wrote up a full page worth of something. It was only when he inserted a second sheet that I started to work. I moved around him steadily, watching him through the viewfinder and snapping shots I thought were good. I kept snapping shots until Eric had almost three pages typed up.

I lowered the camera and looked over his shoulder. I had expected to read gibberish and saw that it was actually the beginnings of a real story. I arched a brow and he shrugged. "Seemed to be a waste of paper. I suppose you got some good action shots?"

I nodded and thought about the several shots I took of his long fingers moving swiftly over the keyboard. So sure and quick, never hesitating. It had reminded me of how his fingers stroked me into orgasm that night on the beach. My breath hitched in my throat when I recalled how I had come around his finger. Ugh this was going to be harder than I thought.

To prevent myself from jumping him, I moved and picked up the book I had laying off the side. I handed it to him and he looked at it. It was actually a very simple cover. Blood red letters made out the title with his name in smaller print. The back had the photograph provided by the modeling agency and a brief blurb I had created using what information I had found on Eric.

His fingers traced over the title. "Murder mystery?"

"It suited my mood," I replied with a grin. "Just prop it up next to you on the table, the back facing me; and can you angle the work in progress stack into the frame?"

He did as I directed and I moved back, lifting the camera to my eye. I focused in on him, trying to make myself see him as just another subject and not the man I wanted to throw me on the bed and fuck me. Then his lips curved up in a slow, confident smile and I had my shot. I clicked and the shutter whirled. I was grinning when I lowered the camera.

"That's fantastic. I think I'll develop it in black and white."

"What's next?"

I ran through the list of sins in my head and considered which one to pick next. As I was thinking, Eric's phone rang. He gave me an apologetic look and pulled it out of a pocket and answered it. I stepped back and looked over my other set ups to try and help me choose to give him a bit of privacy. I had just decided on doing gluttony next when his angry voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned to see him pacing, his handsome face twisted into a snarl as he snapped something into the phone, gesturing wildly with his free hand in front of him. I didn't even think. I just raised the camera and start taking pictures. The sheer rage on his face startled and intrigued me. His eyes darkened and flashed as he growled into the phone, and I felt a shiver go down my back. With one angry gesture that I caught on film, Eric snapped the phone shut and turned to me, the anger draining from his face when he saw me with the camera.

I lowered it sheepishly. "Sorry, impulse."

"What were you doing?"

I bit my lip and tossed my blonde hair over my shoulder. "Well you were so angry that I couldn't resist getting a few shots for wrath. If you want, I won't use them, but they were pretty good candid shots. Anger like that can't be faked. It's better than what I could have staged."

For a minute I thought he would snap at me and insist I don't use them and then he laughed and walked over, kissing me softly on the forehead. "Angel, you are just so impulsive that I can't be mad at you. Go head and use them."

I smirked up at him. "Thanks. And I have a name you know."

"Yes," he drawled, reaching up to caress my cheek, "Sookie. It's an interesting name."

"Family name," I muttered under my breath.

"It's unique, like you." Eric was staring at me with such intensity that it made me nervous, so I took a step back.

"Right, whatever you say. So how about gluttony next? Or greed," I said quickly, wanting to get back to the matter at hand. Every moment in his presence was making it harder to remain professional.

"Greed."

"Great, go on, sit on that couch over there." I gestured to the one with money spread all over it. "I figured simple was best, so just sit however you are comfortable. I'll get things set up as fast as I can."

Eric went and sat on the couch, extending his long legs in front of him and crossing them at his ankles in a very laid back position. I put down the camera and moved in to finish setting up the shot. This was very staged, but I figured that simple and traditional for greed would be best. So I piled some of the money in his lap, gave him a handful to hold, and added the other props. I had raided Amelia's town house since her father has a extensive collection of art and other fancy ass shit. The whole theme of this shoot was personal greed, material greed, wanting and having it all.

Eric was amused as I arranged statues, first editions, and paintings around his money covered lap. Then I told him to give me a cocky look and moved back to my tripod and camera. Either Eric was a really good actor, or being cocky was second nature because I didn't have to direct him at all in how to hold himself or to look. It took a few minutes to adjust my camera on account of the changing light, but I finally got my shot. I took several pictures, including one of Eric holding a framed Ansel Adams photograph in front of him. That one I really liked.

After greed, we did posed shots for gluttony, Eric at a table of fake food and pretending to gorge himself, and envy, which was really hard to do. I ended up running out and buying a cheap paperback of a successful author at the used bookstore next door and putting him back at the desk. I got him in the middle of tearing the book in two, something that made the bookworm within me wince, as crumbled sheets of paper surrounded him.

Then came the last two sins. Lust and sloth. Sloth was easy. I had him strip down to his boxers and spread out on the bed and pretend to be asleep amidst a pile of junk food and magazines and a TV remote. I must have worked him harder than I thought because by the time I finished setting up the camera and adjusting the lights and filters, Eric was asleep. Now here was something I hadn't expected.

I stepped away from the camera and tripod and watched him, a tiny smile teasing my lips. He was so peaceful laying there, remote held limply in one hand, a handful of pretzels in the other. He was actually downright adorable, all those layers of smugness and confidence stripped away. I reached back and grabbed my other camera and started taking shots. It was too good to pass up and it was more real because he was asleep and not faking it. The epitome of a lazy bachelor.

I leaned in to get a closer shot of his face when his eyes snapped open and just locked onto me. Heat sizzled between us and the lust was so thick I was surprised that I couldn't taste it. His entire face changed. There was no trace of sleep in his eyes, just pure wanton desire. His lips parted and his tongue slid along his lower lip, and I swallowed, finger pressing down on the shutter, capturing that look forever.

Then I carefully took a step back, aware of his eyes following me as I placed the camera on the roll top desk and moved back to him. His hand reached up and captured mine, tugging me into the bed with him. I went willingly, all thoughts of professionalism and my assignment gone. All I wanted was to feel his lips on mine, his body against mine, sliding into me, filling me.

His lips were warm and teasing as he kissed me, pulling my body firmly down on top of his. There was no urgency, not frantic fumbling. I rocked my hips, felt the hard length of his cock pressing against me. His tongue swept over my lips and they parted, allowing him entrance. I braced myself, palms pressed firmly into the mattress as his hands worked their way down my body to the button and zipper of my jeans. I lost myself in the kiss as he worked my jeans down over my hips, not even pulling away as I raised up so he could shove them low enough for me to kick off. He chuckled when his hands moved up the back of my thighs to find my bare ass. Thank god for laundry day and the decision to go commando.

"You are just fascinating, Sookie Stackhouse," Eric murmured against my lips.

I only moaned in response because his fingers had found my wet center, flicking over my clit. I rocked my hips against his fingers. I reached down between us and tugged his boxers down. Somehow I managed to work them down to his knees without moving much, still kissing Eric. The bed shifted under us as he kicked off the boxers. Then I grabbed his cock and stroked the hard length several times before positioning him at my entrance.

I pulled back from the kiss long enough to watch his face as I lowered myself onto him, taking him completely inside me. It was as wonderful as I remembered, the way he stretched and filled me. His eyes darkened and closed as he exhaled slowly, embracing the sensation of my wet pussy around his cock.

I waited until he opened his eyes again to move, my hips rising and falling, driving him deep within me with each stroke. His hands found mine and our fingers entwined as I rode him slowly, my breath coming in small pants. The orgasm was building already, small tingles that grew with each rocking motion of my hips.

I pulled my hands free of his and leaned back, my hands going to his thighs to brace myself. I began to move faster. My head fell back, the ends of my hair brushing against his legs. His hands gripped my hips, and he pulled me down on his cock harder. I lifted my head to look at him and his eyes were transfixed, watching the way his cock slid in and out of my pussy. Watching the lust grow in his eyes, the desire that clouded them was so erotic that I wish I could see what he was.

His fingers found my clit, and it took just one stroke to send me flying over the edge. I cried out his name as my body shook, my inner walls clamping around his cock hard. I slumped forward, forehead on his shoulder. He groaned and began to thrust up, adding to the pleasure that swept my body.

Then Eric flipped us, jerking my hips up. His lips covered mine as he thrust inside me. I grabbed onto his shoulders, nails digging in as I arched my hips to meet his. Our tongues tangled together in a hard, frantic kiss. Then his lips were moving down my neck, finding that sensitive spot right over my pulse, and he bit. I screamed, head thrashing, and raked my nails down his back as I came again, hard and violently.

I was still quaking from the orgasm when he grunted and tensed above me, thrusting deeply inside me one last time. His cock throbbed, and I felt the warm spurts of his orgasm. I muffled my soft cries against his shoulder, clinging to him, not wanting to let go.

After several moments, he moved to roll off of me, and I wrapped my legs and arms around him, holding him tight against me. This time the sex had been so much more, well, meaningful than what we had done at the beach. It was almost tender the way we came together. I did not want to give up that connection, I loved the weight of him on me.

Eventually Eric did roll us over, pulling out of me. I whimpered a little at the lost. I felt his lips brush over my forehead, cheeks, nose, and finally my lips in the lightest of kisses. I snuggled close and he dragged the silk sheet up over us.

"No one is going to walk in on us?" Eric asked, voice thick with sleep.

I shook my head. "No, I have the studio for the day. Though we should get up and clean up."

He grunted. "Later."

I smiled, my fingers tracing abstract patterns on his chest. "You know something, Eric?"

"Mm what, Sookie?" he asked and I glanced up to see his eyes drifting close.

"This is the best assignment I've had all year," I said with a giggle. Eric's chest rumbled with his chuckle and he kissed my head again. I laid there quietly listening to him breathe for a long time before the steady rise and fall of his chest and beat of his heart lulled me to sleep. This really had been the best assignment I had.


End file.
